


Threads of Fate

by Hikaru7



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2310524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hikaru7/pseuds/Hikaru7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They fought and achieved their aims. They rebuilt the family they had lost. But what can they do in order to protect that small world? The only stories they can tell their children are ones hiding the cruel truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Threads of Fate

“I want to hear a tale!” the small girl cried, stomping her foot on the table she was standing on, her usually pale face now flushed with colour.

The woman with the long raven hair, who was cooking soup at the fireplace, turned back to her with an affectionate smile.

“I’ve just finished telling you a story, dear,” she told her in a kind voice.

“I want to hear another!” the girl insisted.

The woman heaved a small sigh. All the tales in the world would be insufficient to satisfy that young mind.

“Hey, brat,” the man who sat in a chair, drinking tea, called to the child in a scolding voice. “Get your dirty feet off of the table. People eat on it.”

The girl wasn’t intimidated by the man’s tone, nor by his piercing grey eyes.

“I want to hear a tale!” she repeated, emphasizing her point with another stomp, sending onion peels flying in all direction and demanding, “Where is the Commander?”

“The Commander is too busy to read you tales now, dear,” the woman replied kindly, stirring the soup with a spoon. “Can’t you wait until everyone’s home, and we finish dinner?”

“How much longer do I have to wait? I’m bored,” the girl said.

“Why don’t you go play with the other children?” the woman asked patiently.

“I won’t play with them,” the girl answered, crossing her arms around her chest. “They’re too wild, and filthy.”

The man heaved an exasperated sigh, getting up from his chair and walking over to where the girl stood in the middle of the table.

“Who taught you such terrible manners?” he asked, his eyes level with the child’s, then turning to the woman, “You’re spoiling this child rotten.”

The woman only chuckled softly, confirming again just how much father and daughter looked alike: the same raven hair, a pair of piercing grey eyes meeting defiant green ones with the exact same look in them.

“Aren’t children just precious?” she asked, placing a hand on her growing belly and smiling in anticipation of her yet unborn child.

“Never expected they were so much trouble,” the man replied, his voice not betraying any emotion, but deep in his eyes, the woman could see affection for the small creature before him.

The door suddenly burst open, and two children ran in, laughing merrily. One of them was a boy, the other a girl.

“When’s the Lance Corporal home, Auntie?” the boy asked. “Shouldn’t he be home yet?”

“He will be, soon,” the woman replied, patting his red-blond hair affectionately, and remarking, “You seem to have grown again, Levi.”

The boy flashed a pleased smile at her.

“I want to be tall and strong, like the Lance Corporal.” he said, his grey eyes shining. “I hope he lets me play with him when he’s home.”

“No, Brother,” the small girl spoke again. “You play with Carla. The Lance Corporal is mine.”

The woman laughed heartily at the small, but all the more wilful child.

“Enough of that, brat,” the man said, picking up the small child in his arm, making room for the woman to clean the table.

The brown-haired girl called Carla was helping her lay the table with plates and bowls and cutlery for six.

“I shall put you up on top of a cupboard if you don’t behave yourself,” the man threatened the child, who sat on his arm with the grace of a little princess.

“You can’t,” the girl talked back. “You’re too _short_.”

The man let the insult go, but only for that one small mouth. He found that children were indeed precious, in their own eccentric ways.

The door opened once again, and a tall young man entered the room. His attire was weatherworn, and his brown hair was dishevelled, but like always, a bright smile shone on his face whenever he arrived home, to his family.

“Welcome home, Dad!” Carla said brightly.

“Welcome home, Lance Corporal!” Levi saluted him.

“Welcome home, Eren,” his wife smiled at him.

The Lance Corporal was looking at the man and the small child on his arm, an expectant look in his green eyes.

“Welcome home, brat,” the man said at length, adding in a lower voice, “Even though we’re only guests here…”

The Lance Corporal smiled at the man’s words and his usual manner.

“You’re late!” the small girl cried in a scolding tone, squirming slightly in the man’s arm. “You made me wait for ages!”

The tall man hunched his shoulders slightly.

“Well, the Commander had a lot to say, so…” he explained sheepishly.

“Lance Corporal, you’re dirty,” the small girl observed with her keen eyes, but nevertheless she extended her arms towards the young man.

“I’m sorry…” he apologized, overwhelmed by the disapproving glance of the child and his father on him. “I would have changed if I’d known you were--”

“Just shut up, brat, and take this bag of annoying wilfulness away from me already,” the man said hastily, handing the small girl over to him.

“Lance Corporal, why do you always wear this filthy rag around your neck?” the girl inquired, pulling at the faded red scarf around the young man’s neck.

“It’s a long story,” the Lance Corporal replied.

“I want to hear it.”

“After dinner,” the young man said, sitting the girl into a chair high enough for her to reach the table. “I promise I’ll tell you.”

They ate dinner, the adults talking and the children chattering and laughing and teasing each other. A small, peaceful world, only disturbed by the everyday troubles that only gave colour to life, instead of making it fade. Only the three adults knew about a world more cruel, but they vowed never to show that world to their children, nor to talk about it in front of them.

“I want to hear that story now,” the small girl insisted, once they were all in the warm room. “The story of the Lance Corporal’s ugly scarf.”

The Lance Corporal sat down in his armchair beside the fire, weary but ready to humour the whims of the child, who reminded him of a person whose orders he had been ready to follow any time.

The child climbed up onto his lap, seating herself comfortably and waiting for the story.

The Lance Corporal exchanged a glance with the older man, who sat at one corner of a large sofa, while his wife occupied the other end with the two children, and the one she was carrying in her womb.

“Erin, why don’t you sit with your father?” the Lance Corporal asked.

“Because he’s mean,” the girl complained. “He wants to put me up on a cupboard, even though he is so short…”

The Lance Corporal laughed, checking himself as he caught the man’s piercing grey glance.

“Be nice to your father, Erin,” the Lance Corporal told her in a soft voice. “You know he loves you very much.”

“And I love Father, too,” the girls said, tugging at his scarf. “But I love you even more, because you always smile.”

“Tsk, what a picky brat…” her father remarked, looking into the bright flames of the fire burning in the fireplace.

The Lance Corporal knew the sadness behind the grey eyes, which had seen so much suffering and loss. Even in a time of relative peace and freedom, it was difficult to forget about the past.

“You wanted to hear the story of this scarf, right?” he turned back to little Erin. “I think it’s your father who should begin the tale.”

The girl looked back at his father with incredulous eyes.

“Your father is quite the storyteller,” the Lance Corporal said. “He used to entertain us with stories when we…”

He caught the warning glance of his wife, and stopped himself in mid-sentence, then resumed.

“But it was a long time since I heard a story from him,” he said, looking at the man expectantly. “Could you please begin the story, Rivaille?”

“What an honour,” the man said, and the small, shining eyes of the children turned on him attentively.

“It was a long, long time ago…” Rivaille began. “There lived a small boy, who had no family, and had to live on the streets. The streets were cold, and filthy, even though they were in a prosperous city.”

Little Erin wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“One day, the boy fell ill with a nasty disease,” her father continued. He thought he would die. But then, a man came. He was a doctor from a faraway town, who travelled all the way to the prosperous city on the King’s orders. He saw the boy’s suffering, and he helped him with his medicines and his words which gave hope to the boy to live on. The boy slowly began to recover from the illness. The doctor soon had to leave him, because his family was waiting for him in that faraway town. But before he left the boy, he gave him a long red scarf to remember. The doctor made the boy promise that he would pay him a visit as soon as he regained his full strength again. The boy lived, and remembered his promise. But the town was far away, and the boy had to travel a great distance until he reached there. On the way, he met a soldier, who coaxed him into joining the army. And so the boy became a soldier.”

“I want to be a soldier, too,” Levi remarked.

“Me, too!” Carla piped in.

The woman gave an anxious look to the children. She knew all too well what it meant to be a soldier, and feared for them. She loved both of them as her own, along with little Erin, whose dream was merely to become a princess. The other two always teased her for that, but the woman only laughed at the litte girl, her heart relieved at her childish wish.

“I want to be like you, Lance Corporal,” the boy said, his grey eyes shining brightly with admiration for the man.

“I considered a certain Lance Corporal as my hero, too,” the young man remarked with a thoughtful smile. “I wonder whether I managed to live up to his standards…”

“Well, who knows,” the man in front of him said, a faint smile playing on his thin lips.

“Father wouldn’t know, since he’s only a horse-trader,” little Erin said.

“That’s not true! He’s--” Levi began indignantly, but the woman put a soothing hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s hear what happened in the story,” the woman said, looking at the man encouragingly.

Rivaille resumed his tale.

“And so the boy travelled with the army, forgetting for a while about his promise. Until one day, they headed towards a small town, the name of which was familiar to him. He was walking over a bare field, a lone tree standing in the middle. He saw a small boy playing alone under the tree. The boy reminded him of his young self, so he went up to him, and they talked. Soon, they became friends. The soldier agreed to play with the boy, and they played until it became late and cold. The soldier took off his scarf to give it to the boy, and the boy promised that one day he would become a soldier as well, and they will meet again.”

“And what happened to the boy?” Carla inquired after the man fell silent.

“Did he join the army, too?” Levi asked.

“Well, that’s another story,” the man replied.

“I want to hear it,” Erin demanded.

“You shall hear it from your beloved Lance Corporal,” Rivaille said to her.

The Lance Corporal shifted in his seat, gathering his thoughts before continuing with the story.

“The boy was still too young to join the army, but he never forgot about his promise. He kept on practicing by playing games. He sometimes got into fights with other boys.”

The woman smiled softly as the memories resurfaced while listening to her husband’s voice.

“But he was alone,” the Lance Corporal went on. “He had only two friends: a small blond boy, who was often ill; and the soldier, who was away on his duty. One day, he went out into the woods on his own, gathering nuts and acorns for his game. He wandered deep into the woods, where he saw a young girl. She seemed to be in trouble. She was gathering firewood when she was attacked by some wild animals. There were many of them, and they surrounded the girl. They were many for one, but not too many for two. The boy took the nuts and acorns, and shot them at the animals. The girl picked up a stick and drove them away. Afterwards, the boy learned that the girl lived alone in a hut in the woods. When the boy found out that she was also lonely, he pulled off his scarf and tangled it around the girl’s neck clumsily, and took her hand.”

He looked at his wife with an affectionate smile.

“They went home together, and the boy never felt alone again,” the Lance Corporal finished his tale.

“And what happened to them afterwards?” Erin persisted.

“That’s your Auntie’s tale to tell,” the Lance Corporal smiled down on her. “Ask her nicely, and she’ll tell you the story.”

“Auntie, please?” the girl turned her expectant gaze towards the woman.

“The boy fulfilled his promise and became a soldier,” the woman began her part of the tale. “And the girl followed him, because he was so reckless, and she wanted to protect him.”

The Lance Corporal laughed softly.

“One day, the boy and his friend the soldier went out on a mission,” his wife continued. “The girl wanted to go with them, but the soldier told her to stay. He promised that he would protect the boy for her.”

The woman’s eyes became sad at the remembrance, but her voice remained steady as she went on.

“Many years passed without their return. The girl was now a young woman. Each day, she went up to the tallest tower of the castle she lived in, and looked out of the window, waiting and waiting…”

“That’s sad…” Carla remarked, snuggling up closer to her mother.

“One day, a beggar woman came seeking shelter in the castle, and the young woman let her in, seeing that she was with child. The woman gave birth to the child in the castle, but she was so worn out with her travels that she soon died. The young woman was left alone to take care of the newborn child. She looked at the baby, so small and warm in her arms. She always wanted a family, but the man she loved did not return to her. She took off the red scarf from around her neck, and covered the child in it, promising that she would protect the small life.”

The woman fell silent.

“Is this the end, Mom?” Carla asked, her eyes full of concern. “Did they never return?”

“What worthless soldiers,” Erin huffed, evidently displeased at hearing such an unhappy ending.

The Lance Corporal couldn’t help but laugh at her. Even Rivaille was smiling faintly. Sometimes, children spoke such truths.

“Ask your father to tell you the happy ending,” the Lance Corporal said to her. “Remember to be nice.”

Erin slid off of the Lance Corporal’s lap and walked up to his father, surprising the man by climbing up onto the sofa and sitting right next to him.

“Please, Father,” the girl began, looking up at him with her big green eyes. “I want to hear a happy ending.”

“As you wish, brat,” her father said affectionately, and picked up the thread of the tale. “After many years of wandering, the soldier and the boy returned to the castle. The boy was now a young man, although he was still a brat. They found a small boy playing in the yard, wearing a faded red scarf that trailed long onto the ground. It looked familiar to them. They asked the boy who lived in the castle, and they learned that there lived a young woman. Then they knew they had arrived home. The next time the young man and the soldier went out, the boy gave the young man his scarf, and made them promise that they would return safely. And they did. The end.”

“Didn’t they marry? There is never a happy ending without a wedding, you know,” Erin pointed out.

The Lance Corporal smiled, amused at the little girl’s comments.

“The young man married the young woman, because they loved each other very much,” Rivaille said to her. “They brought up the boy as their own, but soon, they had a daughter, too. They loved both children equally, and continued to live happily in the castle.”

“How did they have children?” Carla wondered.

By now, Rivaille was clearly exasperated by such awkward questions.

“That’s a tale for when you’re a bit older,” the Lance Corporal told his daughter, smiling at recalling the time his wife had asked the same question when they were younger, and Rivaille had explained to them that children grew out of the ground, like some strange root.

“And the soldier?” Erin inquired, always particular about the details. “What happened to him?”

“The soldier ended up living with them somehow,” Rivaille told her, then added, briefly ruffling the silky black hair of the girl, “And he brought with him an annoying little pixie he had picked up during his travels.”

The girl made a face at him.

“So the six of them lived happily as a family,” Rivaille concluded the story. “How about that for a happy ending?”

“Satisfying enough,” the small girl nodded after a while.

“Still, isn’t there something wrong with this story?” the boy asked thoughtfully, understanding more than the younger children.

“Well, it is only a story, and it happened long ago,” Rivaille told him, standing up from his seat. “Maybe there is truth in it, maybe there is not. Now, off to bed, brats.”

“Can’t you tell me what the Commander told you this time, Lance Corporal?” Levi asked, looking at the young man expectantly, but the only thing he got in reply was a sad smile.

“Next time,” the woman told him with a gentle voice, preparing to steer the children towards their beds. “The Lance Corporal is tired. He needs his sleep, too.”

Erin climbed down from the sofa, extending her hands towards her father.

“What is it, brat? You won’t grow taller just by stretching like that,” Rivaille teased her with an amused smile.

“I know,” Erin said, pouting. “Carla told me I will always be small, because my father is such a short man.”

“I didn’t!” Carla said, hiding behind her mother for fear of the man.

“I think she wants you to pick her up,” the Lance Corporal said to Rivaille.

“Take me to my bed,” Erin ordered, then remembered and added, “Please.”

Rivaille raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought that was the Lance Corporal’s duty. How come you’ve changed your mind?”

The girl didn’t reply, only pouted her small lips. But Rivaille didn’t really need an answer, he was pleased with the request nevertheless, even if it sounded more like an order. He picked up little Erin, and brought her to her room, which was spacious and fit for a princess. He placed the small girl gently onto the bed, removing her shoes for her before tucking her in among the soft blankets.

“Father. Thank you for the story,” the girl looked up at him with her earnest green eyes. “I love you.”

Rivaille smiled. Children were so much trouble. Yet, so much joy in exchange. The existence of that small creature was something he never regretted.

“I love you, too,” he told his daughter, smoothing out the raven locks from her small face.

“Then why do you never give me a kiss?” Erin questioned him. “Levi and Carla always tell me I’m adorable, and they want to kiss my cheeks.”

“I thought you didn’t like it,” Rivaille said, a bit surprised.

“I don’t like when _they_ do it. They’re always so dirty. But when Auntie kisses me on the forehead, it’s always so soft. And I don’t mind when the Lance Corporal kisses me on the cheek, although he’s dirty, too. I wonder what it’s like to be kissed by Father.”

The green eyes looked up at him expectantly, the sharp look in them softened by sleepiness, and something which Rivaille learned to recognise as affection.

“Sleep well, princess,” he said, leaning down to place a kiss on the girl’s forehead.

“Sleep well, Father,” the small, sleepy voice replied before he blew out the candle on the table beside the bed.

Rivaille shut the door gently behind him, and went back to the room, where he found Eren gazing out onto the night sky, his expression unusually thoughtful.

“What did the Commander say?” he asked the question they were avoiding all that time, but couldn’t ignore forever. The look on the young man’s face told him that it was bad news, and indeed, he had been right.

“Armin believes that soon there’ll be a war,” Eren told him, now unable to conceal the worried expression appearing on his face. “The enemy started moving again.”

It was an event they all feared, but expected nevertheless, since they had learned long ago that the most dangerous thing was to be blinded by a fleeting period of peace, and let the enemy catch them unawares. They couldn’t allow themselves that, not when they had finally regained that most precious thing called ‘family’.

“Would you protect them for me?” Eren asked at length, turning back to him with earnest eyes.

“You know, brat, that was a completely unnecessary question,” Rivaille told him in his usual tone, but stepping up closer to briefly ruffle that untidy brown hair, just to see that smile again which brought so much happiness into their lives. And he was already resolved to do everything in his strength to protect that small, peaceful world.

“I will protect them,” Rivaille promised, “even if I have to become a monster.”

Eren smiled, relieved, for he knew he could trust the word of the man who, in his eyes, would always remain humanity’s strongest.

“Although I sincerely hope that things would not come to that,” Rivaille added after a while, looking out onto the starry sky.

“Yes,” Eren agreed. “Then we wouldn’t be able to keep our secret anymore.”

They never talked about the Titans in front of their children. They never talked about what they were. Because they wanted to protect the small, peaceful and happy world that their families gave them, and which they wanted to give their children. The world they so longed for. Maybe it was selfishness on their part. Maybe it was love.


End file.
